Dora the Explorer before she went missing

Famed Nickelodeon personality Dora the Explorer has gone missing in Central American and has not been heard from in over a week, prompting a full scale search and rescue effort funded by Nickelodeon and The U.S. State Department.

“I don’t know where she is” lamented Dora’s mother.  “I just want my daughter back.  Okay, I just want her paycheck back.  Does that make me a bad person?”

Dora was last seen in the jungles of El Salvador where she had gone on her latest exploration.

“She might have inadvertently gotten herself into trouble” said a spokesman for Nickelodeon.

Dora’s knowledge of Spanish was, shall we say, faulty.  I know people thought she spoke fluent Spanish but that was just lines she was reading for our show.  In fact we often had to counsel her not to go out alone just because she didn’t know the language, like the time she walked into a store in Guatemala and asked for a Banana Sundae and ended up being sold into slavery.  It cost us an arm and a leg to buy her back.  Stupid kid.  Like I said, she didn’t know the language.

Problems might also have arisen because of Dora’s traveling companions, an anthropomorphic talking monkey and her talking purple backpack.

She told me she was going to Central America to explore.  Alone.  Without the crew from the show.  I told her that wasn’t a good idea. “Look” I said, “These are superstitious people.  If you start walking around with your monkey and your freaking talking backpack something bad is going to happen.  Something really bad.”  But she didn’t listen to me. The kid was very stubborn.  Well, spoiled actually.

Since Dora’s disappearance Nickelodeon has been taking heat for not hiring an actual Spanish speaking explorer, instead of hiring an Anglo kid named Julie Brown and calling her “Dora.”

Nickelodeon defends itself.

Look, the character of Dora is supposed to be Pan-Latina.  It represents the beauty and diversity of Latina culture.  That doesn’t mean we wanted to hire a real Latina to play the character.  Hispanics are too hot blooded and temperamental.  Besides, if we hired someone Spanish the next thing you’d know they want stock options or worse want to have lunch with us. We’re all for diversity.  Within limits.

In the meantime the search for Dora has hit a snag.

We ran into a local who kept shouting, “Hemos matado a la bruja y su mono que habla!”  Now my Spanish is faulty but I think he was saying that they killed the witch and her talking monkey.  Or he wanted a Banana Sundae.

If the actress who plays Dora is not found within the week Nickelodeon plans to cut its losses and recast the part.

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Easter is just around the corner and with that in mind today it is my pleasure to introduce the one and only Easter Bunny.

MI:  Good afternoon Mr. Bunny.  Is that what you prefer to be called?  What should I call you?

EB:  Just call me whatever the hell you want.  Hey, you got a cigarette?

MI:  No I don’t  smoke.

EB:  Figures.  One of those.

MI: Pardon?

EB:  Never mind.  Ask me the questions you want.

MI:  So how long have you been the Easter Bunny?

EB:  About six years now.

MI:  So tell me what you do.

EB:  I travel the world on Easter giving eggs, candy and chocolate to kids.

MI:  Do you enjoy what you do?

EB:  Next question.

MI:  Okay.  That’s only one day a year.  What do you do the rest of the year?

EB:  I temp.  You know, office manager.  Desktop support.  Stuff like that.  One year I even took a job as a stripper.

MI: Really?  A stripper?

EB:  Yeah, someone said it was a good way to make some cash.  And the women really loved touching my fur.  But I don’t do that any more.

MI: What happened?

EB:  Well the women touching me got me excited.  And when I’m excited I mark my territory  They didn’t like me pissing all over them so they complained to the manager and I got fired.

MI:  Tough break.

EB:  Yeah. Hey, do you want these eggs?

MI:  No.  Eggs have cholesterol and I’m watching my diet.

EB:  [Raising voice.]  This is how I make my f*cking living, pal.  Don’t disrespect me.  Take the f*cking eggs.

MI: Hey, calm down.  I don’t like eggs.

EB:  F*ck you.  I swear to god I’ll take these eggs and smash them against your f*cking forehead.  Now take the f*cking eggs!

MI:  Jesus.  Psycho.

EB:  Sorry.  Sorry  It’s just that I get graded by my bosses on my house to dispensation of eggs and chocolate ratio.  If I visit a house and don’t give them anything my wages get deducted.

MI:  Wow.  Tough bosses. You must be under a lot of pressure.

EB:  Tell me about it.  I mean sometimes I deliver candy and the f*cking brat isn’t even grateful.  You try delivering all over the world in one day just to have some snot-nosed ten year old tell you he wanted a bicycle instead.  I’m not goddamn Santa you f*cking brat!

MI:  I never realized – 

EB:  And sometimes my bosses give me wrong addresses.  I went to this Muslim guy’s house one year and he tried to cut my f*cking head off. 

MI: Jesus!  Well that’s about all the questions I have for you.

EB:  Hey, do you want some chocolate?

MI:  No thanks.  I’m lactose intolerant.

EB:  What did I just f*cking tell you asshole?  If I don’t give you anything I get docked.  

MI:  But I don’t want – 

EB:  [Lunging towards Manhattan Infidel] Just take the f*cking chocolate.  Take it!  I swear to god I’ll shove this chocolate bunny down your goddamn throat!

MI:  Is it hollow?

EB:  Yes.

MI:  Then I don’t want it.

EB:  Jesus Christ.  Fine!

[Throws all his candy on the floor and starts stomping on it.]

EB:  No f*cking chocolate for anyone this year.  It’s your fault.  So kids when you wake up Easter morning and there’s no candy blame this asshole!  I’ve had it.  F*ck this job.  I’m outta here.

MI:  Wow.  Readers I apologize for the Easter Bunny – 

EB:  Don’t f*cking apologize for me you dickweed.

MI:  Okay.  Bye.

EB:  Yeah, f*ck you asshole.  I’ll be at the bar.

And so ended my interview with the Easter Bunny.  I think we have all learned something today readers:  Service industry jobs are not as easy as they look.  Unless it’s delivering chocolate once a year.  I mean even an idiot could do that.

EB:  F*ck you!  I heard that!

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I love mean, gritty streets. Look out! This is frightening.

Perhaps there is no more legendary New York filmmaker than Martin Scorsese.  Using the city as a backdrop he has directed some of the greatest movies ever.  I was fortunate enough recently to have the opportunity to interview him.

MI: Good afternoon Mr. Scorsese.  I’m a fan.

MS: Of course you are.  Why wouldn’t you be?  Are you looking at my eyebrows?

MI: What?  No.

MS: Yes you were.  It’s okay.  I have bushy old man’s eyebrows.  The visual image is quite stunning.  I think I’ll make a movie about my eyebrows.  Marty:  Note to self.  Make a movie about your eyebrows.  I can smell an  Oscar, I tell you.

MI: Well that’s your call.  Mr. Scorsese you’re a lifelong New Yorker.

MS: Born and raised in Little Italy on Elizabeth Street.  You know New York City is so tough, so gritty.  The tough, gritty visual images give me so many ideas for my movies.

MI: That is so.  Speaking of which, you were recently quoted as bemoaning the changes that have happened to your old neighborhood.

MS: Yes.  The Bowery and the lower east side.  They’ve become yuppified.  Crime is down.  How can that inspire a film-maker?  I miss the old neighborhood.  The grittiness, the ambience, the vivid atmosphere.  The chaos.  The violence.  The brutality in the street.  The bloodshed.  The screams.  Now that was a neighborhood that inspired.  That was a neighborhood I’d live in.

MI: You – you enjoyed living in that kind of environment?

MS: Of course.  It was great for storytelling.  That’s why I enjoyed living in it.  I mean, I never actually lived in that environment.  It’s dangerous.  But it’s good for storytelling.

MI: So you don’t actually live in the gritty streets?

MS: Of course not.  I’m not stupid. 

MI: Then why do you object the the neighborhood being safer?

MS: How can safe neighborhoods inspire my bushy eyebrows?

MI: I don’t know.  I would suppose they’d inspire new and different stories.  And the people who live in those neighborhoods now certainly don’t seem to mind that violence is down, gangs are not roaming the streets and homeless aren’t defecating in doorways.

MS: Yuppies all of them. Soft, decadent yuppies who know nothing about the real New York.

MI: Really?

MS: They aren’t worthy to be called New Yorkers.  A true New York cherishes crime and decay and bloodshed and the smell of human feces deposited on the sidewalk.  Why every night when I’m eating caviar and sipping champagne from my highrise penthouse I look out on the streets below and I see order, calm and safety.  My bushy eyebrows do not like this.

MI:  I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.

MS: Note to self:  Marty send a note to the City’s planning board asking them to make the streets gritty and blood soaked.  That will inspire me and my eyebrows.

MI: If the violence returns innocent people might get hurt.

MS:  Real New Yorkers don’t mind getting shot.  I once had my eyebrows grazed by a bullet. Actually it was a blank.  On a movie set.   I wouldn’t be dumb enough to go near a neighborhood that had people shooting at each other.

MI:  I suppose –

MS: Marty take a note to yourself:  Make a movie about a genius director who gets shot in his eyebrows.  Call it Genius Director who Gets Shot in the Eyebrows by the Gangs of New York.  Got I love living in grit and grime.  The ideas roll off my tongue.

MI: But we’re not in grit and grime.  We’re in your limo.

MS: Out!  Get out!  I can’t have your negativity around my eyebrows!

MI: But I haven’t even finished my Peking duck yet!

MS: Marty.  Note to self.  Make a movie about a blogger. Kill him off in the first scene.  Get out!

It was at this point that Mr. Scorsese had his limo driver stop the vehicle.  I was thrown out onto the street.  Fortunately we were right by Lincoln Center so I bought tickets to the Metropolitan Opera.  I forget which opera I saw but it was tough and gritty.

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Lilly white Hogwarts seeks to broaden its image

The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has announced today an affirmative action program for its school.

“I am proud of Hogwarts and the work we do preparing the next generation of little shits, er, I mean wizards” declared Deputy Head Mistress Minerva McGonagall.

But I must admit that our students are, well, white.  Very white.  Incredibly white.  I mean whiter than a gated community in a progressive neighborhood.  And that made me feel bad about myself.  So starting next year we will actively seek out Hispanics and other minorities who may want to be wizards.

This is not the first time that Hogwarts has tried to incorporate minorities into the school.

“We tried to bring in some Asians back in the ’70s” she said.

But when their parents saw our curriculum they kept asking where were the advanced math courses.  We had to tell them that we were a school of wizardry and that math wasn’t emphasized.  That’s when one parent called me an “Occidental dog.”  So that ended that experiment.

Nor is McGonagall naive this time about the cultural adjustments that will have to be made at Hogwarts.

“We already signed up some Dominicans as students.  So I guess we’re going to have to start stacking the vending machines with El Presidente beer.”

The addition of minority students isn’t the only challenge facing Hogwarts as it seeks to align itself with the times.

We added a few courses on western imperialism and racism.  They replaced the Care of Magical Creatures major. I wasn’t happy about that.  But, you do what you have to do.  Also, we’ve added a “Queer Theory in Divination” minor.  Not everyone on the staff is happy but change is always going to be painful.  Especially for bitter, clinging white men.

The curriculum won’t be the only change at Hogwarts.

We had to abolish the Hogwarts Express, unfortunately.  I personally loved the train.  I thought it as a nice touch.  But the train wasn’t high speed electric rail.  It was an old, slow steam engine.  And that led to global warming.  Also the train just wasn’t safe.  We had a few accidents over the years.  One time we tragically lost our entire freshman class when the Hogwarts Express plowed into a school bus.  I don’t to tell we got some heat over that.  The shit really hit the magical fan.

Until Hogwarts gets funding for high speed rail from the government all new students will have to take a bus to the college.  If they have a car they will have to get a permit to park in one of Hogwarts student parking lots.

In a bid to get private funding celebrities will be invited to give commencement speeches.

This year we have Bill Cosby, I think.  He’s loaded so we’re giving him an honorary doctorate in Defense against the Dark Arts.  Hopefully he’ll return the favor and make a donation to the school. He’s loaded. He doesn’t need the money.

In a final attempt to modernize, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry basketball team will officially change its name in 2014 to “Hogwart Orange.”

“Hey, it worked for Syracuse.”

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Ms. John pictured before her untimely death

Tragedy struck the tight-night world of show business today as legendary singer Olivia Newton-John was killed in a grease fire at her residence in Florida.

Reports indicate that Ms. Newton-John was cooking a meal for husband, John Easterling whe the fire broke out. Instead of placing a cover on the pan and smothering the fire she apparently threw flour on it, mistakenly believing that she was throwing baking soda.  It was then that Ms. Newton-John was caught in the grease fire and began to burn.  Her husband after unsuccessfully attempting to put out his wife, placed a panicked call to 911, the transcript of which follows:

911 operator: 911 what is your emergency?

Easterling: Help me my wife’s on fire!

911 operator: Is she a smoker?  Because smoking is a bad habit.

Easterling: What? No.  She was cooking something and a grease fire broke out.  She tried to put it out but wasn’t able.  Now she’s on fire!  Please send the fire department quickly!

911 operator: May I ask how she tried to put out the fire?

Easterling: What?  I don’t know.  I think she threw some flour on it.

911 operator: You know sir that flour will not put out a grease. fire.  You need to put baking soda on it instead.  Or cover the pan to extinguish the oxygen.

Easterling:  Really?  I did not know that.  That’s useful information to – will you please just send help!

911 operator: She’s on fire?

Easterling: Uh Well-a well-a well-a huh.

911 operator: Tell me more, tell me more, tell me more, did she burn on the floor?

Easterling: Uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh.

911 operator: Tell me more, tell me more, tell me more did she crash into the door?

Easterling: She ran by me, almost put me on fire.  She showed off, twirling around.

911 operator: Someone’s on fire, but oh oh those grease fires at home.

Easterling: Uh well-a well-a well-a huh.

911 operator: Tell me more, tell me more, tell me more did she put up a fight?

Easterling: Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh.

911 operator: Grease fire, don’t mean a thing, but oh-oh those summer nights.

Easterling: Uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh!

Ms. Newton-John’s death has been blamed on ignorance on the proper methods of putting out a grease fire.  The municipality of Jupiter Inlet Colony where she resided is urging all its citizens to be more careful in the kitchen and to always have baking soda at hand in case a grease fire does in fact break out.

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